Thursday, July 16, 2015

A philosophy of being (yX)

I take my name for a walk, round the block,
down side streets laced with hip hop beats,
up car lots,
mom & pops, past stock boys @ thegrocer,
smoking cigarettes on back docks,
awaiting trucks --
to the gate
where we've partitioned greenspace,

like a garden,
like Eden,
like zoo cages
we keep animals in
confusing dominion
with oppression, giving submission
a bad taste

we don't say much,
but mean
e v e r y t h i n g

drawing echoes from creation's ring
to Cain & Abel's reckoning ---

I had a dream
once til it became too much tofit my back pocket,
until it outgrew the picture frame
in the flap of my wallet,
too heavy to carry
& everyone had a METRO card
W/ enough credit to ride
til their heart's content

& the contents of my heart were not meant
for the upper crust
of this planet,
dig your fingers deeper
into my being and you'll find the ancient
river - much older than you can name

I hold my name
in trembling hands,
under the surface of the water,
til my reflection settles
& wait
til the last syllable
bubbles up -
because it's just another way
to define me

47 comments:

ego is the death of art - that is true - and it is a thin line between giving ourselves with our whole personality into our art and becoming self-obsessed sometimes - i think the secret is the focus - is it life? is it art? is it us? love all the images in this x.. the dreams becoming too small for the back pocket probably is my fav.. the metro part is very cool as well..

"I hold my name in trembling hands,under the surface of the water,til my reflection settles" ... Man, this is like one of those torture situations, but you're like torturing yourself until you are finally willing to tell the truth about who you are. I adore this.

"keeping only one letter, until it too becomes too much"

This really touches me. I always come back, but I'll come back extra for this one. And yeah, you're right about ego messing up art. You really gave me a lot to chew on. I love poetry that sends me off with a lot to chew on, perhaps even making me reconsider my life views. Excellent job.

I love the yX in the title ... fitting with your name, "why X" ... but also it's the reverse male chromosome identifier. So you're a man, but you're backwards in some regards. Also, the feminine part of you is twice as powerful as the male. ;) What if you were almost going to be a woman, but then that little bitty "y" popped up and changed things for you? Hee hee. I'm just goofing around with you. But still, you get my wheels turning with the details ...

Ooh, and I just found the AI. Artificial Intelligence. Nice. Man, I love your work. Write more often!

Oh wait. With the uppercase X in there, it's really "AXI," or "ax I." Or even "ax eye," because I just have to go crazy with everything I read. Maybe you can't really see anything accurately until you cut out your eyes. You know, faith without sight. That sort of thing.

Heh. It was definitely intended for "why X" Kinda like a biography of sorts, you know. I could have been a woman though - the leg hair kinda throws it off though, and shaving my legs would not be pleasant. Neither would an axe to the eye. Ha.

Perhaps ego can be the death of art, yet it can be the sustenance, the salvation, the impetus & fuel as well. Kudos for writing a very strong diatribe against pretension & ambiguity. Your hidden messages were umber-cool. The strength of the piece is that allegorically it makes a statement beyond the scope of you, yet it drips with the molecular/spiritual energy that is you; very impressive.

I'm always so impressed with the way you write. Your poem is' self-revealing yet also has a message about art, how you feel about it, too big at times if the the ego is allowed to take over. That's true of life. I so enjoy reading your work. It is exceptional.

I like the hidden message. I read it backwards and got Paul is dead, Paul is dead...but seriously though - I love this polemic. Pretension, snobbery, pseudo intellectualism.....all just sliced through this with a sharp katana. The first lines put me in mind of Nawlins, somehow. The last lines blow me away - coupled with: dig your fingers deeper into my being and you'll find the ancient river - much older than you can name

I read the last lines then went back and read these again. Incredible. One day when I grow up, I want to try to be as excellent a word smith as you, Master Crafter.

Indeed it is. Art should never be supressed or oppressed. It should be free to EXpressed! Love your explanation of your name. It's short and sweet and doesn't take up as much space as a thumbprint, lol! I am not sure about the meaning of the river (of life? - or Styx?) Thanks for the challenge.

very cool piece, X. Love the internal rhyme flow, and the hidden message too! I really like the part about partitioning green space...It would be wonderful if green space could "roam free" like animals that are free and wild, not pacing back and forth behind a fence

I thought this poem well written and filled with rich imagery and thoughts. However I find it hard to believe that 'ego is the death of art.' Art by it's very nature is ego-centric. A piece of art, or even a body of art that is produced by an artist is that particular view the artist has of the world. If not then all art would merely repeat itself and all be the same. But as I said I applaude the poem for your point of view. >KB

In the meta-sense I hear you. Art is given from the artists perspective andc omes from somewhere internally. The ego I think that kills the art is that of the artist. When they start to see them as separate or above the viewer. Or that they have a greater value. To make any art is to be open to interpretation as well and what you intended may not be what is seen or taken away from the art. I can try to contain it, but then it is not art it is proselytizing.

dig your fingers deeperinto my being and you'll find the ancientriver - much older than you can name

My brain is not fully functional(along with a few other parts) but I do want to say this sings like a freaking nightingale, or maybe a death metal chick-singer--with all the stress and beauty that haunt the human condition. I'm left staring down at the water, watching myself dissolve one letter at a time.

To find the name within that has no word no letter no thought..To live the name within that lives eternal without past withoutfuture.. eternally now.. to be or not to be.. a stupid question..for an animal with life.. to live or not to live. a sad equation..for an animal who forgets to live.. to embrace life with allemotions.. senses integrated in site.. to be now is lifeis love is light..:)

Wow. This poem has such depth and self-awareness. A bit sad the dream getting too heavy for your back pocket..........hard to keep dreams from getting unwieldy sometimes. LOVE digging your fingers deeper to find the ancient river. LOVE this poem, kiddo. Keep stringing those letters together - you have a gift.

I love your use of the hidden message, which is so true. Ego and pride are the death of many things, not just art, but selflessness and humility, love and grace, are all sacrificed to ego if we cling to it. And that the poem as a whole supports that hidden message and how it relates to you. Very nice take on a philosophy of being. Peace, Linda

Taking yourself for a walk can be very reflective..where have I come from where have I been and where will I walk to next in the journey. Some dreams are too big for us to carry and some are too small to grow..We need to find space in our hearts to carry the load we were meant to carry. And I would dig my fingers deep into ancient rivers for there I would learn much..get the riverbed earth on my hands..underneath my nails..become the river for in the river there is a sense of healing for me..Your words are stronger and I can feel you are embarking on a quest..a higher revelation will soon appear. You are taking a journey into your inner self..leave doors open so you might see, taste and feel everything that is awaiting you...truth is within you...embrace it my friend...you have a voice that needs to be heard. When the artist becomes larger than his art..he has lost his vision..just my opinion.

Another poem that deserves to be read a few times, masticated thoroughly, swallowed and digested. Each time I read it, I received a different gift, but the one that will hang with me:I had a dreamonce til it became too much to fit my back pocket,until it outgrew the picture framein the flap of my wallet, too heavy to carry

The problem with coming late to a poem like yours is that everything I wanted to say has already been said about it... but it also feels to me almost like 2 poems. The first part is street art, a walk through a modern cityscape, coping with jostling and constraint, crowds and loud beats. The second part then runs deeper, more quietly, like a hidden river.

Identity and ego are not easy bedfellows. The one often merges into the other. However minimal evidence of one, except by poetic threads, can keep the ego a mere ghostly smear in the mirror. A delightful read.

i know I left a comment, conviction is everything you are in pocket or out X marks the spot, hey X I'm back on Mondays, Wednesday and Friday I guess I just can't live without my Xs pun indented :) catch up eventually truly.L